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tbaluver · 1 month

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The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: i might make a part two of this i just thought this was a cute idea in my drafts (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He is your weighted blanket whenever you need him. Literally and figuratively. When you sleep, he provides so much warmth. His head could be on your chest as he dozes off when you play with the locks of his hair. His arms would be around your body, occasionally pressing light kisses on your arms.

Your big baby. The warmth and softness of you and hearing the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. Therefore, he loves being the little spoon when cuddling despite the height difference between you two. He leans into your touch a lot so just hold him tight and run your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his face into your chest.

He has the most confusing food combos he's cooked but you try them anyway. Sometimes it's not shocking to you that it's not your cup of tea so you decide it's best to just get take out instead or that you cook anyway. You both can cook your own plates at the same time in the kitchen or you'll help him cook what he wants even if the food combo is questionable so he doesn't burn the house down.

Will celebrate all of your achievements no matter how small. You were nervous about an exam? "Woot" Will be happy and proud that you got it over with and you'll both find something small or big to do to celebrate it

Cute date ideas would be stargazing or picnics in the park. Packing simple easy foods and treats while you both enjoy the scenery and afternoon. Or having a blanket out at the park while you watch the stars at night but he's looking at you.

Zayne:

The type to kiss you in bed every single night and when you both wake up. He'll kiss you on the lips, or the top of your head while he cups your cheek.

He'll always listen to your problems. He's an amazing listener and he gives logical advice as well as encouragement and praises depending on what the situation is.

He's a busy man but he tries to plan dates with you at least two or three times a week. If he has a busy schedule he'll make it up to you. Some dates include checking out new cafes to try new sweets or bakeries.

He's also a gentleman! He'll hold any door open whether it's a restaurant, yours or his home, or the car door, etc. He always tries to pick you up and drop you off. He'll also wait until your inside your home safely before leaving. He'll always stay on the dangerous side of the road or sidewalk whenever you both are walking together. With him you're never walking on the wrong side of the road whenever he's with you! If you were both in a busy area, he'll let you link your arms together, or intertwine your hands together, or he'll have his hand on your back so he knows your with him.

He'll make the effort to call you whenever he can. During his breaks from work, he'll call to see how you're doing. Or he'll call you at night to wish you a goodnight before he does an operation because he might not make it back home in time.

When he comes home late at night, he's cautious on handling your sleeping form because he does not want to wake up your peaceful sleep. He'll tuck your head in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head before pulling up the covers over your body.

Rafayel:

You are his muse. He is so in love with you that you fill up his mind so most of his works would be inspired by you. He would have many sketchbooks filled with sketches of mostly just you and sometimes of you and him. The sketchbook is filled with your side profile, your eyes, your smile, your hands, any parts of you that he has adored for years. One time he planned on drawing the scenery of the beach but he decided to sketch you instead. Or there would be times where you're at a restaurant and he'll doodle you on a napkin. Or when you're both at the beach, he'll grab a stick and draw you on the beach.

Being in a relationship with him basically means you will always have a companion. He'll trail on you wherever you go like you literally cannot get rid of him. When you want to shower by yourself, he'll stay on the other side of the shower talking about anything. He just likes having you by his side. You can sit near him while he paints a new canvas and sometimes he'll ask you your opinions. He'll also want you to travel with him if he had to fly out for exhibitions.

Although he can be very playful and a tease, he'll do anything for you. You just have to ask him. He's wrapped around your finger.

He'll buy matching jewelry for the both of you and he'll buy any dresses or outfits that he thinks you would love or that would look gorgeous on you.

He also loves loves it when you give him words of affirmation. He loves hearing when you compliment him or tell him that you love him and he'll also love doing that to you as well.

Sylus:

He would reprogram Mephisto to like you and not squawk/ claw you. If he was far away from a business situation he would have Mephisto or Luke and Kieran keep you company. The twins will probably tell you any stories you want about Sylus. He'll also make calls or text you to update you on anything while he's far away.

On nights when he's not home, he'll intentionally leave some of his shirts out because he knows you sleep in his shirts as you drift off into sleep. He makes sure that they smell like 'him'.

Loves holding hands anytime he can with you. Or just loves having his hands on you. Always has his hand on your back or intertwined with yours or wrapped around your waist.

Makes time for you anytime he can. He'll literally just give you his card and follow you around while you shop. He's also the type of partner to buy you everything that you touch. If there's a time where you're upset about something that's sold out, he'll be searching for it and buying it overnight with the fastest delivery!

He'll also find your height difference funny. Sometimes he'll place his hand out on your head and tease you. Or sometimes he'll hold things above his head and find your expression funny because it's still impossible for you to reach.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

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Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)?

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

#this one was fun to write <3 #clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #roblox pressure x reader #pressure x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #hurt/comfort #artist reader #fluff/angst

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soobnny · 3 months

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dating him | hwang hyunjin

❝ i’ve never seen anything quite like you, my love ❞

hopeless romantic hwang hyunjin

love is beautiful and brilliant hwang hyunjin

yall cannot convince me that he isn’t the BIGGEST lover

romance is in his blood

he is so fascinated by it

so, for that reason, i feel like dating him would be like the love you read about or watch in movies

bc hyunjin would b the type to consume so much of romantic media

it’s where he learned everything from

wow what a dream

he strikes me as the type to fall in love with every little thing too

his eyes is just a lens of romance

and it’s set on YOU

every single love language he has it .. but here are some specifics

love language #1 gift giving

hyunjin is a traveler okay

and in every trip, he always has something to give you

keychains, t-shirts, bags, jewelry, stickers, refrigerator magnets, pins, you name it

even u have to remind him not to go all out sometimes

bc when that boy splurges, he SPENDS

esp for u ? he would spoil u in a heartbeat

he always makes sure he leaves a day of his travels dedicated to u and thinking about u

on that note, he tends to buy u guys matching items

matching phone cases, matching rings, matching scrunchie

whatever u can get that’s matching

he WILL get it

it excites him too

he loves being able to tell the world how in love he is

wait side note

whenever he’s traveling, he’s always just instinctively thinking about you

he buys this bagel for breakfast, oh ???? like hey guys yn loves bagels too

and the boys r like WE KNOWWWW 😭

everything is about u quite literally

ok continuing on

and he gifts u his art too

his art is very important to him

and he has found lately, u are the one person littering his sketch books

oh he’s down bad

i think for ur anniversary, he’d paint the constellations of how the stars looked that night and aligned perfectly

or his favorite picture of you

down bad that he also buys u a shit ton of dresses

and lingerie ………….

look he knows his fashion

he knows what looks great

u can’t blame him for buying what he knows will look so pretty on you

(he’d probably give u his card one time and say “go crazy” like wow he’s packed)

#2 quality time

i think his favorite dates would also be expensive

he just can’t help himself

BUT u know he has a sweet spot for self care dates too

spa days are very important to him

loves being able to relax and unwind with u

he especially loves when u play with his hair and when u paint his nails

one time, u caught him stealing one of your nail polishes

would also be the type to bring some bit of you in his travels

like ur perfume or ur shampoo

anything that’ll remind him of u

tho ur scent is his favorite

hence why he goes for perfumes or soap or shampoos bc u feel closer to him this way

he just loves being with u even if both of u are doing nothing

just like that bruno major song

conversations where u lose track of time

conversations as in talking shit about the people you hate together

😭😭😭😭

i think he’d want to paint with u

he’d be so shy to ask you too

just simple things

that cute date idea where you swap paintings every 5 mins or something

when u showed him that tiktok, he jumped in excitement

he wanted to do it right away

he prepares everything

he has both ur paintings framed in his room

it’s his most prized posession

oh, and he always invites u to game nights with the boys

he is SO competitive at monopoly

he couldn’t give two shits about other games

u don’t know why he gets so worked up with monopoly

“SEUNGMIN DONT DO IT SEUNGMIN!!!!”

it’s actually rly funny

he would be the type to take revenge

“you’re gonna regret buying a house there”

would cheer if his friends go to jail in the game or if they go bankrupt

doesn’t even try to hide it

and if he’s playing as the banker, he’d slip in extra bills for you

#3 words of affirmation

tho usually said when he thinks u’re asleep

he’s thankful that u take care of him when he forgets to

esp when he’s so immersed in his art

he whispers words of love

like poets and authors in books

he is just so full of love i can’t say it enough

physical touch except instead of touch, he loves kissing you

LIPS AND NECK ESPECIALLY

those are his top 2

he uses tongue 😕 sorry to break it to u

and he also leaves hickeys

so don’t run out of concealer okay!!!!!!! bc he tends to leave like a lot

before i end

here r some more dates he loves

botanical gardens

he’d pick a flower and place it behind your ear

now it’s his lockscreen

sunday markets

he loves the domesticity of shopping together

he buys u lots of flowers

every single type

u think he’s given u all types already

there is never a day where ur apartment doesn’t have flowers in a vase

bc as soon as the first sign of death arrives, he’s off to buy u new ones

he strikes me as the type to also go all out for valentines

hyunjin would send u mounts of chocolates and flowers

take u out to the fanciest date

u get to try new food and cuisines bc of him!

might even buy plane tickets so u two could travel together

maaaaaaaan just treasure everything

a love like hyunjin’s is hard to come by

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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vrystalius · 1 month

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💕 Love Languages of the Upper Moons + Muzan

How the Upper Moons and Muzan express their love language for you!

Here is my masterlist for the hashira.

Here is my masterlist for the demons.

Note: I added Daki as a platonic bonus. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Brief mention of being parents in Douma’s part. It’s right at the end and just one sentence <3

Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro, Daki x gn!reader

❤️ Muzan Kibutsuji ❤️

Quality Time (intensity: 9/10)

Muzan would call himself a busy man, but he likes having you around while doing his experiments. Just having your presence near him just makes him calm and able to concentrate on his experiments. But besides that, Muzan likes to spend time with you. Over his thousands of years of living, he’s spend a lot of time doing many things, and yet spending his valuable time with you made him the happiest and content he’s ever been. Even if he won’t admit.

Also, Muzan enjoys holding you in bed. He himself doesn’t need sleep, not that he can sleep, but he will hold you and caress you until you fall asleep. He will remain the whole night, just silently laying there watch your chest go up and down, brushing your hair out of your face.

Giving/receiving gifts (intensity: 8/10)

Gifts don’t mean anything to Muzan, but you giving him little trinkets you found on the market, or a new article of clothing you thought would suit him makes him feel happy. Those things have a meaning to him, unlike the other meaningless garbage. Muzan will make sure to wear the clothes or keep the trinkets close to show how much he appreciates him.

But what Muzan loves even more is to shower you in gifts. Thanks to Gyokko and the pot selling business, Muzan is very wealthy. That means he can buy you all the food you like, all the clothes you want, and all the little trinkets your heart desires. That man will spoil you, and he will do it until the end of time.

“Would you like to go to a new restaurant that just opened in the southern district, my light? I heard your favourite dish is server there.”

💜Kokushibo💜

Words of affirmation (intensity: 9/10)

Kokushibo doesn’t talk a lot, but he likes listening to you. You talking about your day makes him content, almost a little envying your simple life. No matter how simple or boring something may seem to you, he’d want to hear it. Not being able to go outside with you during the day kind of kills him.

Also, you complimenting him boasts his confidence and pride, especially when you compliment his skill. He has trained for centuries and always envied his brother for being more talented and stronger, so you admiring something he worked so hard for makes him beam of pride.

Kokushibo also likes praising you for your skill in whatever you’re doing right now. Sketching, writing, training or whatever. Kokushibo likes to admire you and express his affections with compliments.

Receiving/Giving gifts (intensity: 6/10)

Kokushibo used to work with wood, carving small things like animals out of wood. He lost interest in that little hobby shortly after becoming a demon, but picked it back up after starting a relationship with you. You once found a very, very old wooden figure he carved and told him you liked it, so he started carving those things again. It relaxes him, but also he likes seeing you happy and appreciate his art.

He showed you everything he carved, almost childishly begging for you to praise his artwork

“My moon, would you like to see the new project I’m working on? … Yes, it’s a little statue of you…. Do you like it?”

🩵 Douma 🩵

Physical affection (intensity: 10/10)

Douma wants to be near you, preferably on you, on all times. His hand has to be somewhere on your body, may it be on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or just holding your hand. You’re near him during sermons, near him during his free time, and in his arms when you sleep. He doesn’t need sleep, just like the other demons, but he likes cuddling you while you do so. It kind of gives him a power trip, you being all trusting and vulnerable while he, a man-eating demon, cuddles and watches over you.

Just to test your limits, he likes teasing you as well. Pinching and squeezing your skin on all kinds of areas, watching your reactions and laughing at them. You’re so adorable, do you know that? He could eat you right up!

Acts of service (intensity: 8/10)

People serve Douma every day and night, giving gifts from all kinds of people, poor or rich. It’s boring and meaningless to him, because he probably got every gift in the world at least twice or trice (expect the blue spider lily of course). What Douma does like to do, is to “serve” you., instead of being served for once. Massages, kisses, cooking (he’s trying) or just doing little chores for you. The only thing he wants in return is the appropriate amount of kisses, cuddles and praises!

Quality time (intensity: 6/10)

Douma adores spending time with you doing whatever! Sometimes it’s just you sitting with him during the sermons, or sitting together in the bathhouse, or you watching him make his little Douma ice sculptures. He likes making little you’s out of ice and play house with you. His little Douma’s are the papa, and the little you’s the mama. It sounds silly, but it’s adorable and he loves it

“My dear lotus! Where are you going, hmm? I’m not finished kissing and coddling you yet! And don’t give me any excuses this time!”

💛Akaza💛

Receiving/Gifting gifts (intensity: 6/10)

Akaza would occasionally steal things for you from people’s homes, dressing you in nice clothes and beautiful hairpins. He picks up everything he believes would suit you. He also likes stealing sweets and food for you, making sure to grab all your favourite foods. He can’t eat them himself, but he likes sitting beside you while you eat, and it makes him very proud when you wear the things he stole for you.

Akaza also melts when you gift him things, whatever it is. He likes handmade things the most. Whimsy flower-crowns or handmade bracelets make him all giddy and warm inside, and he will wear them with pride (enduring all the side eyes and teasing he will receive from the other Upper Moons).

Quality Time (intensity: 8/10)

Akaza likes being around you. That’s when he feels the safest and most welcome. Something he enjoys doing the most is watching fireworks with you, when another festival comes around. The moment between you two as he holds you close, sitting together on a rooftop just makes him feel… human. It remind him of something he once had once but then lost, and you keep reminding him of it. Akaza can’t quite put the finger on it what exactly it is you remind him off, but he doesn’t really mind. He just wants to savour the moment with you and hold you a little longer, just until the fireworks are finished and the sun starts coming up.

“My, my Akaza-dono!~ What’s this? A bracelet? It looks so colourful!”

“Take your damn eyes of it and then kill yourself.”

💚 Gyutaro Shabana 💚

Words of affirmations (intensity: 10/10)

At the start of your relationship, Gyutaro hated it when you called him handsome or pretty, or compliment anything on his appearance. It makes him feel itchy and dirty, as if you’re just lying straight to his face.

But after a while, he warmed up to them more and more. Now, Gyutaro out right craves your words and compliments. It boosts his pride and confidence, and it makes him feel wanted and cherished for. Just one nice word makes his complete day, maybe even week. It’s like he’s addicted to your praise.

He’ll try to return the favour, but he just can’t out into words how MUCH he really loves you. Gyutaro can’t decide what he should praise you on. There are just so many things about you that are beautiful to him, he just can’t decide and starts stuttering, sometimes accidentally throwing an insult your way.

Physical touch (intensity: 8/10)

Just like praises, physical touch was something Gyutaro resented at the beginning of the relationship. Why do you want to touch him anyway? He’ll just end up ruining your clothes, or worse, make you hate him even more than you probably do!

After a while, a very long time, he starts getting used to it. Now, he’s very addicted to that as well. Gyutaro is very similar to a feral cat that needs to learn how to love and get loved, and when you show him enough patience, he’ll be a cuddle bug. He wants to hold you, cuddle you and be wrapped in your arms as well.

“A-Are you done talking w-with your pretty lips? I-I wanna be h-held now. I-I’m clean, I swe-swear!”

Bonus:

(Platonic)

🩷Daki Shabana🩷

Receiving/Giving gifts (intensity: 9/0)

Daki is used to being spoiled, and she likes giving you gifts as much as you give her some. In her eyes, it’s some sort of competition. You gift her a golden hairpin, she’ll give you a diamond-golden-hand made hairpin. You give her a new kimono, she’ll give you the most high quality silken kimono on the market.

Daki will appreciate your gifts though. She’ll boast it to her brother about it, priding herself in the fact that you gifted her something. You thought about her while you choose the gift! It just makes her very happy.

Quality Time (intensity 10/10)

Daki likes spending time with you. Gyutaro barely comes out of her anymore, so she really appreciates you hanging out with her. You two gossip about the other oirans from the other brothels while Daki paints your nails, or she does your hair while she rants about Muzan and the other Upper Moons. Sometimes Gyutaro joins in, and you two do his make up. He doesn’t like it, put he puts up with it. Since Daki likes you so much, he will tolerate you.

“Those nails look so pretty on you! Not as pretty as on me, but you get it. Oh, oh! How about we do onii-chan’s next?”

💠

I added Daki as a platonic bonus. Hope you guys enjoyed!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

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majinbangus · 2 months

Text

this is disgustingly sweet

"You made me pretty."

You knew Soap was talented, but this is the first time he's showing you a picture he drew of you. It's a surprise; you didn't think you'd ever have a place in his journal.

"No, I didn't," He says, making a noise of disagreement, and you switch your gaze from the picture to see him giving you an affectionate look. It makes your breath catch. You've only seen him give that look to people he's been in love with. "You're already pretty."

"John..."

"Was just drawing what I see, bonnie."

You can tell he's being earnest. Something in your chest aches. You look back down at the worn journal in your hands, taking in the drawing. He actually colored and shaded it, a stark contrast to his usual sketches. Soap rarely takes the time to do that.

"I don't know what to say," you respond lamely, unable to bring yourself to look back at him. You trace the drawing with a thumb. "This is..."

Calloused hands come into view, and you can't react as he gently cups your cheeks, tilting your head back to look at him again. Soap chuckles softly at your dumbstruck face, mouth slightly agape.

Leaning in, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. He feels so warm. Soap glances down at your lips before looking up at your eyes again. He speaks, and his breath puffs against yours, "Don't have to say anything, bon; could give me a little kiss instead?"

"A kiss..?" You steal a glance at his lips. They're curved in an impish smile.

"Aye, just a little one and only if you want." He lowers his voices, and your pupils dilate in response. "But I'd be a really happy man if you did."

Your voice cracks. "What if I want more?"

It's a really simple answer, one Soap exclusively knows, but you get it when he closes his eyes and brushes his lips against yours, murmuring, "Then I'll give you more."

More... You like the sound of that.

UGH 🤮

#based on a friend drawing a picture of me and telling the same exact thing #the “youre already pretty” part other than that i added shit #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #captain mactavish x reader #soapy thoughts :]

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giannaln4 · 12 days

Text

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time.

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him.

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper.

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #giannaln4 writes #f1 #formula 1 #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris oneshot #f1 x reader

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n0tamused · 3 months

Note

Welt nerding out about his little special interests and his tv show he likes and whatnot... Dr.Ratio going on and on about all his bath soaps and bath salts and whatever he has... Sunday snuggles and sleeping after a long and heavy day of work....

A/n: Sorry for taking so long pookie I hope you like these little imagines :( <3 mwah, ty for requesting <3

Contents: gn reader, separate drabbles for Sunday, Dr. Ratio and Welt, a bit angsty in Sunday's part, fluff otherwise

Gloved fingers held around the black stylus pen as it glided over the digital screen in a few precise strokes. The character on screen is becoming more and more alive, and looking over his shoulder you can see the several other frames that lay finished, resembling only the start of this little project you managed to convince Welt to partake in.

“I take it you like it, right?” you ask, tiptoeing playfully around the direct question, prompting the man to laugh heartily, mirth seeping into the crinkles in his face. Leaning back in the chair he takes a small break from the lineart, adjusting his glasses before he look up at you where you stood at his side.

“You’re spoiling me, you know?” he begins, his eyes mellow with a childlike wonder and joy that isn’t too often seen on his person these days. “Yes, I do like it, a lot. This tablet is even more advanced than the ones I was used to using back in my day. I mean, it holds so many functions, and the program itself has many great features to assist with the process - whether it be just one piece of art or a whole animation” His eyes gleam as he looks back at the screen, his eyes flickering over the corners of the canvas, the little icons and frames and the low opacity sketch of the animation.

“That is a relief, and I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying it so much. You do deserve it, Mr. Yang” cooing at him softly you pat his shoulder and give him a light squeeze before taking note of what’s on screen. It’s a simple set of characters, and in a more cartoonish style - chibis, is what you heard them call this style. But the characters are oddly familiar to the crew itself.

“Huh..? Is that.. us?”

“Yes… Since this gift was from you, and also the crew has left its mark on this old heart, I thought that my first project on the tablet should be something special too.. Uh, wait..” He fumbles a bit with the frames and animation, brief images flickering of different character - Dan Heng surrounded with books, March 7th’s chibi showing a worried face as she stands next to a pot of Himeko’s coffee and Himeko looking pleased as she drinks from her mug, and there’s PomPom next to the Express, but what gets your attention is the chibi version of yourself at the very start of the frame set. You’re sitting at a round table with a few chubby stars above you.

“Starting with you, I am first making an introduction to each character..”

“But where are you?”

“Hm?”

“I saw everyone in these, but not yourself? This crew is incomplete without you, Welt.. You should put us together in one frame. I mean, we can be drinking tea at the table together, right?"

Welt looks at you, then at the frame, noting the vacant left side of the big table.

“You’re right…”

“Sunday..” sleepy mutters fall from your lips as you push yourself to sit on the big bed, the covers pooling at your hips. Your hand is lifted up to shield your eyes from the golden light that spilled from the hall.

“Apologies... I'll turn the light off now.." comes a reply from the figure shrouded in darkness, but by silhouette alone you could tell him apart from another. His wings droop underneath his ears, showing that even the lightest parts of him felt the heaviness of today’s work. He swiftly but quietly slips into the hallway to turn the lights off, before his footsteps mark his return to the bedroom. Now you can only listen to him shuffle about, the heavy breathing making your heart throb from concern, but you know asking him about it wouldn’t grant you an answer.

So you wait until he lifts the bedsheets and until his palm searches for you across the vast expanse of the mattress. Taking his hand in yours you lead him to where you are, laying on your back and feeling the bed dip and move underneath you until Sunday has settled himself with his head on your chest. Sighing the biggest breath you heard from him so far, you tighten your hold on him, arms circling around his shoulders.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he had you both sinking further into the bed, desperate to feel your warmth, hear your peace and feel it rub off on him too. “I missed you…” he confessed, leaving a chaste kiss on your collarbone before his ear pressed above your heart, listening to the trapped drumming within.

“I missed you too..” you reply, combing your fingers through his hair, feeling the wings around his waist stretch out for arguably the first time today, one wing shorter than the other, feathers cut halfway.

“Rest now..” you prompt, kissing the top of his head and he hums into you, wanting nothing more than to dream of you and freedom with you.

"I told you to be a little more careful with which shampoos you purchased.." you heard him say when you pointed out how a particular shampoo on the shelf made your hair damaged the last time you used it. You sighed, in agreement with him, but as he plucked the bottle from the shelf you looked over the other products on the shelves, taking a hair mask container and putting it in your cart.

“See, this is why this shampoo didn’t sit well with you” Veritas says, looking over the ingredient list after catching sight of the logo of the producer, a sneer already on his face as he never had good experiences with this company’s products.

You look over at him, holding onto the shopping cart with one hand as you peer at the bottle in his hand. “Oh, yeah- that one did have my hair feeling like hay.. ugh” you frown a little but as Veritas looks further down the ingredients list, you let your eyes wander over the shelves in search for a possible alternative - one that won’t leave your hair feeling dry and ready to snap.

“Hmm…” Veritas looks up, his coral eyes looking over at you after he had returned the bottle onto the shelf. “Let me see..” he muttered, already reaching out to grasp a lock of your hair in between his fingers, twirling it for a moment before thinking hard about it. Then his eyes return to the vast selection of shampoos, reaching for a green bottle on a higher shelf. “Ah, this one would go well for your hair type. And it will regenerate whatever damage that other bottle left you with”

“Oh, let me smell it-” you whisper with soft excitement, forcing a huffed chuckle from Veritas as it seemed you cared more about the smell than what the shampoo actually had to offer. He shakes his head as he pops the lid open and brings it to your nose.

“Does it smell good enough for you?” he asked, teasing laced in his words, but despite that he brought the bottle to his nose as well to inhale the light green apple smell. He relishes in the scent, imagining the way our hair would smell the same if you purchased this.

“Ohh.. oh definitely, it smells so good. Give it here” you smile up at him and take the bottle to put in the cart. “I should ask you more often on this guru advice, Veritas, you’re more help than I gave you credit for” you playfully jab at him as you walk a few steps forward, looking at another section where bath salts and bath bombs lay. “Oh! Look at this!” you gleam as you pluck a round bath bomb colored blue.

“Lavender?” Veritas asked as he came up next to you, choosing to ignore your initial jab.

“Yeah. Lavender suits you, and it is a relaxing scent over all. Didn’t you run out of those bath salts too? We should get some new ones” you throw the bath bomb into the cart before he can reject it, but you make space for him to look over the other products, smiling up at him coyly as he gives you a daring look, yet you knew he meant no malice, he was being playful.

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chaoticforever · 4 months

Text

Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand.

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped."

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him.

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one.

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son.

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s.

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained.

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n.

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced.

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke.

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it.

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful.

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #son reader #x son!reader #x son reader #platonic #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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vasilissadragomir · 10 months

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one of the most heart-wrenching things about thg universe is that you feel the loss of who each character would be outside the circumstances of their birth almost as acutely as you feel the loss of the characters themselves.

sure, we know what lucy gray and her family would be doing in a different world; she’d be dancing and singing and making music which defines a cultural identity. but what about the others? would haymitch have been a hilarious, loving father with a family had he not been forced to survive 47 other children’s brutal deaths? would finnick have been a charismatic and beloved actor, bringing joy to immeasurable people on his own terms? would beetee and wiress have worked together to develop technology to make it easier to connect loved ones far and wide? what would reaper and annie have given to the world, or thresh, or rue, or even coral or cato or glimmer or clove?

if katniss wasn’t half-starving and forced to spend each day hunting to feed her family, would archery be her true passion? or if she’d been a well-sustained little girl with access to art supplies, would she have spent her time sketching captivating dresses? she picks up ropes and making fish hooks quickly—could her dexterity have lent itself to knitting, sewing, or crocheting with vibrant yarns and fabrics? there’s so much evidence that katniss finds clothing inspiring and empowering, even when she dismisses it as frivolous. she likes being pretty, she just hates the circumstances under which she’s made to look pretty. cinna shows her that beauty has its own power, and there are several moments in her interactions with cinna and his designs that make me wonder who she’d be if she had space for art and creativity in her life.

conversely, peeta has had art in his life since he was a small child, but for him, art has always been entangled with his trauma. he could bake and decorate well because he learned from his mother, a mother who beat him his whole life. but his talent grows, not only as a survival tool in the first games, but when he paints rue on the floor of the training center before the second games. his art becomes not only a symbol of his trauma, but a means of resistance and solidarity. in a world where peeta’s intrinsic kindness and loving heart had been nurtured and welcomed rather than abused, could he have been a painter, helping people find collective meaning in the simple realities of life?

could katniss and peeta have still found each other in another world, a world without the horrors they were raised with, and bonded over their love of art? could they have been each other’s muses?

maybe they find their way to share art, after the events of mockingjay, as part of their process of healing and falling in love with each other. when they’re finally safe and have been for a long time, maybe katniss fashions peeta an easel for him to paint in their living room. after months of watching him gaze out the window and paint the changing leaves, katniss takes to knitting on a rocking chair in the other corner of the living room to steady her restless hands. they work silently as the days go by, quietly exchanging the things they’ve made to give each other the reassurance and love neither could ever fully convey with words.

and maybe one day, when they learn there’s a baby on the way due in midwinter, katniss takes a page from peeta’s sketchpad and starts to plan a series of sweaters and hats and socks she can knit for the baby. and peeta goes to the little nursery upstairs and starts working on a mural, so the baby will have something beautiful to look at every day. they work together to design the perfect baby blanket for their child, to ensure they will always be wrapped in a layer of protection and love by their parents.

but even if they find creativity and beauty in their lives after the end of mockingjay, the art they make will simply never be what that art could have been had they not faced what they faced. art comes from suffering, yes, but the human condition has so much suffering as is, and we’d never know what kind of art they’d make if they hadn’t experienced trauma of a distinctly sadistic and inhuman nature. but maybe their children, raised in a better world with love and protection and safety and joy and creativity and expression, will be the ones to create the art peeta and katniss never could.

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #katniss #peeta #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #cinna #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #thg analysis #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #finnick odair #annie cresta #catching fire #mockingjay

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meowmeowriley · 11 days

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Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.

The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.

Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.

"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.

Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.

Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.

Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.

Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.

Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens."

Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"

"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."

Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.

***

Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬

#call of duty #22 ghost and his love of older tech #my beloved headcanon #modern warfare #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #fanfic #also webkinz

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selfishdoll · 1 year

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NOW PLAYING…. SWIM

So hard to ignore ya, keep your body open, swim

ARTIST! CHOSO x FEM!READER

sum. your poor roommate was stumped drawing the naked female body. pictures weren’t working and porn definitely didn’t help. so you did the next best thing, you modeled for him.

cw: reader is black (obviously), body image issues, modern au, choso & reader are 19-21, reader’s a little dumb, porn mention, ooc choso (this is my first time writing for him bare with me 🙏🏾), oral sex (f! receiving), overstimulation, soft dom choso, size difference, pet names, praise, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, roommates to lovers, slight possessiveness, pussy drunk choso(?), etc. unedited, please excuse grammar & spelling mistakes.

this was so rushed i’m sorry, but hope you enjoy it <3

The sweet sound of Erykah Badu surrounded the kitchen, soft murmurs of her lyrics traveling from your lips. Your eyes focused on the pan, sliding your spatula under the bacon strips with a soft hum— flipping them soon after. You were dressed in a simple random tshirt — probably your roommate’s — and shorts. So focused on your food, you became a little startled when heavy footsteps headed towards the kitchen, turning to spot Choso entering.

“Morning, Choso.” You spoke in a soft tone, glancing to see the man approaching the fridge, opening it and kneeling to inspect the shelves. He gave a soft morning back, clearly still tired. It was nine in the morning after all, and he typically spent his nights drawing or working. You knew nothing about being a artist, but it seemed stressful. You always felt bad watching his tall form drag into your shared home and to his room— or even the couch if he was tired enough.

“You want some breakfast.”

“No thanks.”

You pulled a sour face, placing the finished pieces of bacons onto a plate, reaching over for the carton of eggs. “You just woke up.. you should at least eat before drawing.” You were always so worried about him, from his sleeping habits to his eating ones; you were surprised the man was still walking on two legs. You stiffened as his large form brushed across you, reaching for a piece of bacon before turning to leave. You shook your head with a small smile, staring after him. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

After breakfast you had settled down on the couch, staring boredly at the random show you had selected. You turned into the soft halloween themed blanket, sighing softly to yourself as you stretched out upon the cushions. Your attention soon drifted away from the show, rather to the man you called your roommate. Breathing softly, you quickly realized something. You hadn’t seen the poor thing in hours.

Rising up from the couch, you slid your feet into your slides, walking towards the back of the house towards the bedrooms. You approached his door, knocking against it for a moment and softly calling his name. When you got no response, you grasped the door handle, turning it open and entering. Your eyes peered over the room; his bed unmade, black blankets and sheets disbelieved, random posters hanging on the walls, while his lanky form was hunched over his desk. You stepped fully inside, eyes widening a little. “Oh!”

His chair switched around, you now able to fully see the porn playing on his computer. To your relief, you hadn’t caught him doing anything scandalous. Instead, he looked quiet bored. You pursed your lips a bit, “Are you… watching porn?”

“Not pleasurably, no.” Choso muttered, clicking his computer to pause the video. He sighed a little, leaning back in his chair. You approached his side, glancing down at his desk to spot the many balled up papers and his opened sketchbook. The man watched as you lifted the book of his desk, you delicately flipping through the pages. Each one was littered with sketches of the female body, little notes accompanying a few. Others completely ruined by dark, harsh scribbles. You hummed a bit, leaning against his desk. “You’re trying to draw a naked woman?”

Choso nodded at your words, rubbing his hands up and down his pants. “I tried photos.. other sketches, and now— this.” He motioned towards the raunchy video on his screen, hands falling back to his lap in another soft sigh. “Nothing is working out.” He seemed a bit annoyed or rather depressed, a thought that saddened you just a tad. From the dates residing on the pages, it was clear he was working on this for a while. And while a few of the sketches looked good, you were sure they weren’t up to his professor’s standards. You placed the sketchbook back down with a little hum, thinking to yourself.

Until, possibly the greatest idea popped into your mind.

You placed your hands on your chest, turning to him with a sweet smile. “I could model for you! I’m sure that’s what you’re missing; something alive and in your face.” You watched as his eyes slowly widened, dipping across your form for a split second before rising back to your face. Choso sat unmoving, quiet as he took in your words. It begun to worry you when a minute had passed and he was still completely silent. You bit the inside of your cheek, hands falling to your sides. “Or… not?”

Choso seemed to finally breathe, blinking as his gaze turned away from you. “It’s uh.. You do realize you’ll be completely naked. In front of me. And I’ll be drawing you..” He spoke softly, slowly; assuring you heard every single word he uttered. He licked his lips hesitantly as you nodded with that same sweet smile. “It could take a while, [Name]. Plus I would be showing my professor this. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

You nodded for about the umpteenth time, as if completely unfazed by this. “I don’t mind! You’ve seen me half-naked when I got drunk that one time and threw up all over myself.” You shrugged; smiling a little as you heard him snort softly muttering something like I remember that. Choso looked over his desk once more, looking over his options. Finally after a few moments he nodded, turning back to you. “Okay, sure. You need like.. ten minutes to get ready?”

Your eyes widened at his words, smile faltering for a moment as you brought your hands close. “Oh, oh! You want to draw me now?” The words came out in a soft waver, the situation finally settling into your mind. It seemed easy enough when you spoke about it, but now that it was about to happen? You weren’t so sure it was a smart idea.

Choso nodded at you, “Yeah. I’ve been working on this a while, I want to get it over with..” He spoke, staring down at the manilla colored pages for a moment before his dark eyes fluttered back to your face. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course! Yeah that’s fine. I’ll.. Ill just go get ready!” You forced a smile, turning on your heel and basically racing out of his bedroom into your own. Shutting the door behind you, you felt your heart drop to your ass. You really fucked up this time, you really just had to open your big mouth. Getting naked infront of your roommate? One that you’ve had a very, very small amount of feelings for? You wanted to shoot yourself just to get out of the situation. That would be much easier then saying you changed your mind and watching the poor artist delve back down his hole of stress and anxiety over his art.

You bit your lip, walking infront of your mirror; glancing yourself over. Your fingers curled under his your tshirt, yanking it off your body before moving onto your shorts and panties. Now completely naked you turned, grimacing a bit at prominent stretch marks etched upon your dark mocha skin. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, anxiety trickling down your spine.

What if he didn’t like what he sees? Probably would tell you nevermind, after seeing your body. Oh, you wanted to cry from that thought. Instead, however— you slapped your cheeks, the sting knocking you away from your insecurities. Everything was going to be fine. As nonchalant as Choso was, he wouldn’t comment on your body in a negative light. He simply wasn’t that type of person. So, with a different pep in your step; you approached your closet to grab your black silk robe, pulling it onto your body and securing it at your waist. You waltzed out of your bedroom with a false sense of confidence, approaching his open door and walking in.

Choso’s chair was now turned towards his bed which was now made, a silk blanket tossed across it. He was sitting waiting, sketchbook rested upon his lap as his leg bounced; eyes shifting to you the moment you entered. You gave a nervous smile, walking inside and taking a seat on the bed. “I’ve never modeled for anyone before, I hope I do alright.”

He smiled a bit at you, the tension of the room dissipating the moment he did. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll be fine.” Choso spoke, not noticing the way your eyebrows shot up at his words. Instead of speaking you simply nodded, hands coming to the knot infront of you. You delicately undid the robe, pulling it off your body and placing it off to the side. Once finished you brought your hands to your chest, legs pushed together as you glanced over at the man. Gauging his reaction— slightly disappointed it was unreadable.

“H-How should I pose?”

Choso breathed softly, straightening in his chair as his gaze switched over you. “Is it alright if I touch you?.. It’s easier then explaining.” He didn’t move until you nodded, standing up from his seat and walking towards you. He gently pushed on your shoulder, murmuring for you to lay across his bed. You obeyed, back hitting the soft silky blankets, dark colored braids fanning around your features. Your skin went warm as he gently grabbed your calf, bending your legs to lay your feet against the bed. The artist took a step back for a moment, looking you over once again before nodding to himself. “We can take a few breaks when you get cold or achy.”

“Okay..” You spoke in a sing-song tone, watching as he sat back down. His hands delicately grabbed his sketchbook and pencil, assuring he was at the middle of the manilla page before gliding the lead across it. You breathed softly, laying completely still as not to ruin the image— while also, trying to ignore his gaze. Which wasn’t an easy task. It was calculating, focused completely on your body and nothing more. Sketching you with his eyes and then his fingers, pressing the pencil into the paper. It was intense, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe under it.

Moments of silence passed, his scribbling, soft swears, and brief erasing the only sound. You soon began to relax under his gaze, feeling your anxiety seep away from your body. With how comfortable the blankets were, you could almost fall asleep. Almost.

His soft swears and scribbles kept interrupting you, and eyes blinking open to spot the small frustrated look over taking his features. You frowned a little, tapping your finger against your collarbone and adjusting your hips. “Is something wrong?” You called softly, watching his eyes snap from the page and over to you.

“No its.. it’s fine.”

You pursed your lips, sitting up for a moment and reaching for your robe. “We can take a small break if you’re not.” You grabbed it, pulling it over your body lazily. You stood up from his bed, walking over to stand beside him. On the page were a few sketches of you, some started while others were scribbled out. You hummed a bit, “These look nice.. why didn’t you finish them?”

“It’s..” Choso sighed softly, rising the sketchbook up higher. He seemed to search for the words for a moment, finally looking at you. “I can’t focus.”

“Focus?” You questioned, squinting at the pages with a confused expression. You glanced back at him, giving a nervous smile. “You seem to be focusing just fine, you just have t..” Your words drifted off as the male set his sketchbook off to the side, standing up from his chair. You glanced up at him, sucking in a breath when you noticed how intense his gaze was. Before you couldn’t distinguish it at all, but now? Oh, you knew that emotion all to well— that desire swirling in his eyes. Your breath hitched as he came close, hand reaching towards your own and gently grabbing it. Your grip loosened, the silky black robe falling to the ground before you, revealing your body to him once again. He breathed the moment he laid eyes on your form, hands hovering as if scared to touch you.

“Can’t believe you allowed me to see you like this..” Choso murmured more to himself then you, lips dropping as if in awe— as if he was truly seeing you for the first time. His eyes couldn’t remain on one point, dancing across your form and soaking you in. You felt so hot under your skin, despite the fact he hadn’t laid a finger on you.

“Choso.. Please touch me.” You finally spoke, voice coming out in a small whine. His eyes snapped back to your face, gauging the way your pretty lips formed a pout. That was enough for him, enclosing his arm around you and tugging you into his body, planting his lips against you. The kiss was slowly and calculated, a hand of his rising to gently grab the back of your head; tilting it so he could kiss you how he wished. His tongue prodded your plump lips, slithering into your mouth as he pushed forward. The moment the back of your knees hit the bed he was laying you on it, large form hovering above you; a hand pressed beside your head.

Your hands slid up his covered arms, gripping his shirt as he somehow deepened the kiss, taking your mouth as his own; tongue curling around and sucking your own appendage. Moments continued of the sweet lip locking, pulling away when air was needed. Soft pants entered the room, Choso leaning on his hunches, hands carrying down your body to your thighs, bending your legs and spreading them. You breathed as his eyes traced your form, heat emitting from them.

“I wasted your time, [Name]..”

“Hm?” You blinked in confusion, hands falling from his arms and to the bed, tilting your head up at him. Choso glanced at your face for a moment before he came to lean over you again, sucking kisses into your neck.

“I’m never letting anyone else see you like this. Never. Doesn’t matter if I drew it or not.” The words flew from his mouth in a deep tone, tracing his canines across your skin. His kisses lowered down your body to the valley between your breasts, lowering to your stomach, and finally.. where you needed him most. His strong hands grabbed the underside of your thighs, spreading your legs open for him. Choso breathed heavily at the sight of you, leaning down to kiss your mound. The action caused you to twitch, glancing down at his fluffy buns between your legs.

A soft oh, escaped you the moment his tongue separated your folds, lazily carrying across. The action alone causes your hands to travel to his hair, fingers curling and gripping the moment his lips wrapped around your clit. He was so gentle; carefully sucking, tongue gliding across the sensitive bud as his hands gripped your legs. Choso pressed his face against your wetting sex even more, lapping you up— slowly getting drunk from your taste. The man couldn’t believe you offered to model naked for him, completely bare; across his blankets. And he definitely couldn’t believe his head was between your legs, eating you up as if you were his last meal.

The pleasure trickled across your body, eyes pinched closed as you struggled against closing your legs around his head. The feeling was far too foreign, far too much— you couldn’t think about anything but his tongue and his lips, pulling soft moans out of your body. Your hips rose into his face, smothering him with your pussy; a groan of his vibrating your body. The man pulled back for a moment, gaining his breath back before he was diving back in; tongue circling your clit, making you a mess. Your fingers began to ache from hard you were clenching him, gasping as you felt him rest your legs on his shoulders, hands now falling to your ass to grip you. Pulling you even closer.

His name fell from your lips in a sweet tone, back arched as your eyes were pinched closed from the pleasure. It didn’t take long for your end to build closer and closer, moving your hips along to expert movements of his tongue. The moment the appendage pushed inside you, however, you were lost; crying out as your came all over his face.

Choso gripped you tighter, lapping up your mess, ignoring the soft whines you exhibited from the sensitivity. He finally released you once he was done, pulling back and breathing as he leaned his against your thigh, eyes looking up at you. From the way you were panting; pretty lips parted with a glossy film in your eyes, he had half a mind to go right back between your legs.

Instead he rose over your form, hand grasping your hip as your legs hung loosely on his waist. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your chin. “So beautiful…I’ve always thought so. The moment we became roommates.” His words were kind, soft, a distraction to the hand carrying down your body until his two fingers curled inside you, pushing all the way down to his knuckles. He followed as you jumped from the pleasure, watching your hand wrap around his wrist. “Now I get to make you feel good.. get to see you all beautiful under me.” Choso murmured, leaning to kiss you once again. His fingers started a slow pace inside you, pushing against your velvety walls, stretching you open from the thickness of them.

Your legs shook, moaning into his mouth before breaking the kiss to gasp the moment you felt his thumb circle your swollen bud. “Choso..” You spoke sweetly, eyebrows pinched close nails digging into his skin as his thrust grew faster. As amazing as it felt to you; his strong, long appendages pushing you open— you needed more. Your eyes opened, leaning up to brush your lips across his own. “Need you..” You spoke against them, other hand coming to wrap around his neck. To your dismay, the man shook his head at you, continued to scissor his fingers inside you.

“Choso—“

“I’m not going to rush.. I don’t want to hurt you.” Choso spoke against your lips, curling his fingers up to brush across that spongy spot inside you. He smiled at the muffled whine that escaped you, sliding a third finger inside. “Be good.. just wait.” He promised, pressing his finger harsher against your clit, soft rubs turning into fast tight circles. The artist continued this treatment for a while, you feeling another orgasm approaching. Despite how close you were, the careful thrusts of his fingers stopped, pulling them out of you.

Despite missing the warmth, you watched in excitement as the man began to push down his sweats and boxers, breathing softly as his cock came into view. A lighter color than the rest of his body, heavy and long, reaching just below his navel. The tip was flushed a soft red, thick— sure to stretch got completely. The thought alone caused our legs to shake, warm flushed hot in anticipation.

Choso came close, crown of his length gliding across your wet heat; coating himself in your essence. The movement alone had the two of you hissing, his hands tight on your hips as he slowly rocked his own. Once he felt he was lubricated enough, he was using a hand to line up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. The man swallowed as he felt your walls clamp around him, hunching over your body as he breathed. His eyes looked you over, leaning down to gently kiss the pained expression away.

“Takin’ me so well, princess.. I’m almost there.” Choso whispered into your skin, slowly pushing the rest of himself into you— bottoming out. He shuddered as he felt you pulse and throb around him, attempting to keep his hips still, struggling entirely. He closed his eyes, placing his face into your neck, smiling when he felt your hands grip his shirt. Gentle kisses traced your skin, a hand massaging your hip to coax you into relaxing. Moments passed before he was sure you were fine, pulling his hips backs slowly and experimentally. When he pushed in, and you only moaned in pleasure rather than pain; he knew he was fine.

Rising away from your neck, the man pulled his hips back again only pushing back in with more much force then before. He watched in awe at the way your lips fell open, honeyed moans escaping you as he rocked into you. The man wasn’t lying when he said he found you beautiful the moment you became his roommate. He hated himself, actually. Knowing any glance at you and his cock was twitching, imagining what it would be like to be with you.. to touch you, to feel every single part of you. Choso truly hated himself for thinking of his roommate in such a way.

But, he was grateful you returned the sentiment.

The moment he was placing his weight behind his thrusts your soft mind turned into sharp cries, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you held onto him for stability. You were losing yourself, succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you, opening your body to him and only him. “Ch..choso, fuck!” You keened out, legs shaking around his form. You gasped as he came closer, pushing deeper inside to fuck right against your g-spot. Your hand lowered to his stomach, the man catching your wrist to turn it— locking your fingers.

“I know, I know.” The man cooed, soft swears escaping him each time he plunged in and out of your wet entrance. He pressed your hand against the bed, watching the way you attempted to hide your face— causing a disgruntled sound to escape him. Choso released your hand, grabbing your throat gently to turn you to face him. He grinned down at your wide eyes, “Keep your eyes right here, focus on me [Name].” The artist’s words came out soft, a complete contrast to the way he was bullying your insides. Even so, you obeyed; staring up at him even as your eyes grew blurry from the pleasure filled tears that collected in your vision.

You felt a familiar pressure in your stomach, legs wrapping around his waist tightly as your moans became shaky. In the midst of your babbles of his name and swears, you informed him you were close, causing the man to chuckle softly. “Hold it.”

“Choso..” His name came out in a whiney drag, tears trailing down your cheeks to which he kissed away. Again, a completely sweet contrast to the way he was fucking you.

“I—I can’t.”

“You can.” Choso confirmed softly, angling his hips so he brushed against your swollen nub with each thrust. “I know you can.. be good and wait for me, beautiful.” He breathed, slamming into your before his words could even escape. Though you whined again, you quickly listened, holding back your orgasm— which much trouble given the way he didn’t let up with his thrusts.

Moments of torture passed, your mind lost to the pleasure but still holding on just a bit. Choso was close now, thrusts desperate and uncoordinated as his groans turned guttural, face falling into your neck. Just when you thought you would burst he rasped into your ear, “Make me a mess, princess.”

You listened instantly, creaming all over his length, walls clenching tightly around him. Choso stuttered, plunging himself deeply before releasing inside you, filling you to the brim; shaking as you milked him. Your mixed pants entered the room, his hips stilling as he simply laid on top of you. Your arms wrapped around him, breathing him in with an exhausted smile.

“Are you really not gonna use my model?”

You whined a bit as he rolled his hips, grasping your leg and hitching it close to him. Choso pulled back to glance at you, thumb caressing the stretch marks on your skin.

“You’re all mine. No one else is allowed to see.”

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